


You'll be alright, Sister

by ElfrootAndEezo



Series: The Hawke and The Other Hawke [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Banter, Bickering, Carver can be a bit of a tit, F/M, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hawke Family Feels, Protective Siblings, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfrootAndEezo/pseuds/ElfrootAndEezo
Summary: His sister looked out for them all and he looked out for her.Marian and Carver didn't always get along, frankly, sometimes not strangling each other was a strain. They'd never let anything happen to each other though, nothing serious anyway. When Marian falls for the dangerous and broody Fenris, Carver doesn't know whether to protect her or step back and give her the chance at a semi normal life.





	1. The Elf

Carver sheathed his sword once he was sure each threat had been neutralised. Trust Marian to agree to run off and help a strange and dangerous looking elf seek revenge without so much as a second thought. And now here he was covered in maker knows what. Varric nudged his side and nodded towards the door the elf had all but flew out of a moment ago. And of course, Marian was following him.

He huffed to himself as he descended the staircase, with Varric at his side, reaching the bottom of the door to hear raised voices. At this rate, he’d have to deliver the news to his mother that Marian had had her heart crushed in her chest by an angry elf.

“If you have a problem with my sister, you have a problem with me.” Carver announced dutifully as he stepped outside to join them, Varric right behind him.

“I imagine I appear ungrateful. If so, I apologise for nothing could be further from the truth.” The elf nodded politely and continued his apology. Carver watched carefully, just in case he needed to jump in to save his sister. Though the idea of fighting the elf didn't fill him with confidence. His sister seemed to accept the apology easily, not even remotely thrown by his view of mages. Sometimes he thought she got the easier job, it seemed like keeping everyone safe was an awful lot easier than keeping Marian safe.

He heard the elf chuckle, a pleased smirk and a cough quickly covering any sign of amusement. It took Carver a moment to recall Marian’s words. _Seems like a waste of a perfectly handsome elf._ Carver groaned to himself as he took in her words. He dared a glance over to Varric who was smiling broadly, clearly enjoying Marians attempt at flirting. She'd never been much good at it.

The elf nodded and they parted ways, the three of them travelling through the dark city of Kirkwall. It was convenient that their home was so close to Varric’s residence at the Hanged Man for Carver wouldn't want to travel in any smaller number through Lowtown.

“Well Hawke, that was ah- interesting.” Varric chuckled as they moved through the silent streets.

“He had quite a nice voice don't you think?” Marian grinned. “Almost intoxicating.”

“Maker Marian,” Carver groaned. “All of Kirkwall and the angry elf who hates mages and can put his hand through your chest is the one that catches your eye.”

“I’ve not forgot your delightfully dull Lothering conquests. Besides, you underestimate my undeniable charm.” Marian laughed.

Carver snorted before he could help himself. “You're awfully smug for a Lowtown apostate Marian.”

“Careful Junior, apostates not a word you want to throw about Lowtown.” They stopped in front of the Hanged Man. “Well, goodnight. Try not to kill each other between here and Gamlen’s.”

Marian waved goodbye to Varric in her typical dramatic flair, turning to face her brother with a goofy lopsided grin. “You know Carver, with all this frowning you’re starting to look like Gamlen.”

Carver snorted in response as they climbed the stairs to Gamlen’s house. Carver placed his weapon by the door and began unfastening his armour as Marian slipped into the other room. “Goodnight sister.”

“Night.” Her voice called back to him.

“Marian!” Mother exclaimed disgruntled. Carver smirked as her heard Marian’s muffled voice, no doubt profusely apologising to their light sleeper of a mother.

He settled into his bedroll stretched out in the living area of the small decrepit house and found himself drifting to sleep peacefully. For all Marian drove him crazy with her reckless antics and flamboyant use of magic he loved his sister and was grateful to still have her and mother. 


	2. Hawke in the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Anders be, well, Fenris and Anders.

The Hanged Man had quickly become the meeting place for Marian’s merry band of misfits, Varric's private room a convenient place for them to hide out from Kirkwall’s finest. Carver sat around the gritty table with Varric, Fenris and Aveline waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. Varric was closest to him, Aveline and Fenris conversing on the far side. Marian and Isabela had not long receded downstairs to collect their drinks.

“Hawke’s been spending a lot of time with the elf.” Varric stated. Carver flicked his eyes to Varric with a snort. That was an understatement. Since meeting the elf several months ago his sister had spent many evenings at the elf’s decrepit mansion.

“Every other evening.” Carver nodded. “Mother thinks she’s been assisting Aveline with the guard.”

“So,” Varric drawled casually. “What's going on there?”

Carver glanced across at Fenris, swearing to the maker that he’d seen his ear twitch. Did elves have superior hearing? He’d heard they did but he’d heard many nonsense rumours about elves. “She says nothing,” Carver watched Fenris from the corner of his eye. “She talks in her sleep after a drink though and maker am I sick of falling asleep to his name.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.” Varric chuckled. Carver flicked his eyes back to Fenris where he was sure a small smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Look what we found!” Isabela sauntered into the room, Marian at her side, trailed by Anders and Merrill. Anders settled down some bottles, Merrill placing the stacked glasses down beside them.

“Here,” Marian smiled as she approached Fenris, placing a bottle of wine in front of him. “It's no aggregio but it's the finest you’ll find in Lowtown.”

Fenris muttered a thanks and Marian took the seat beside him, Anders of course glared and sat himself on her other side. He didn't much like Fenris but he liked Anders less. The mage couldn't take a breath without ranting about mage rights and the Templars. Isabela sat beside him and Merrill busied herself admiring the trinkets around the room. Carver found it endearing, the way she viewed everything with wide eyed amazement.

Several drinks down and the table was pleasantly conversing, telling jokes, playing cards and making plans. Isabela was in the middle of another story about her wild exploits when Varric nudged his side and nodded across the table. In the short time they’d known Fenris everyone had come to know just how much he hated being touched. Just one look at him screamed _I’m dangerous, don’t touch me._ But, here he was his arm brushing against Marian’s in the most casual of ways. He wouldn’t raise an eye if it was anyone else, Marian especially had a habit of invading peoples personal spaces. For Fenris though, it was _something_ and maker did the smile on his sisters face sing it. Carver turned back to Varric to find the dwarf chuckling to himself.

“Hawke,” Ander’s eyes flicked to Marian and Fenris’s who were now whispering to one another. “I was hoping you could assist me in the clinic tomorrow. I know you’re not the best healer but I’ve been overrun of late and any help would be appreciated.” Fenris snorted as he brought his bottle to his mouth.

“Always so eager to get her alone, abomination.”

Anders dramatically slammed his drink onto the table, turning his attention to Marian. “Why do you keep him around? He’d turn you over to the Templars given half the chance.”

Carver wondered briefly what it would be like to have Merrill and Isabela clambering for his attention like these fools but quickly swallowed the thought at the sight of the two of them. Fenris had risen from his chair, the lyrium of his tattoos glowing faintly as he sneered at the apostate.

“A wild animal.” Anders scoffed, frost dancing around his fingertips.

Carver was almost in awe of the way Marian sat in the middle straight faced. “Aveline, you were going to show me something at that little stall up near the gallows. Shall we?”

Aveline arched an eyebrow at Marian’s cool demeanor, and gave a single nod. They both rose from their chairs, Marian glancing back at the two men standing off. “Either of you dies and I’ll be back later to kill the other.”

“These tense stare offs are rather dull, I might join you girls.” Isabela rose from her seat. “Unless you boys plan on stripping off a little…”

“No slatterns allowed.” Aveline’s voice was serious. Serious enough that anyone but Isabela would sit back in fear but Carver had grown to learn that this was how the pair spoke. He didn’t quite understand it but truthfully, he didn’t understand women all that much.

Isabela swished over to where Aveline and Marian were leant by the doorframe anyway, taking the insult in her stride. “Coming kitten?”

“Oooh, yes please.” Merrill all but squealed.

The four women made their exit leaving Carver with Varric and two brooding men. Maker, he ought to convince Marian to forget them all and run off with a nice simple farmer. Preferably with less issues and no glowy upgrade.


	3. A Mage is no Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group splits into two as they travel the Wounded Coast on their final mission before the Deep Roads Expedition.

With the deep roads expedition quickly approaching the Hawke family were in a constant state of irritation. Marian wanted to take Carver, mother didn’t want them both to go, Marian decided to leave him at home to allay mother’s fears, Carver insisted on going, Marian agreed to take him again and the cycle continued. Carver understood mothers fears, she didn’t want to lose all of her children _but_ he wasn’t about to let Marian go without him.

She had an unnecessarily flamboyant fighting style, something that saw her recklessly rush into dangerous situations and attract an unusual amount of attention. Carver had spent his whole life compensating her weaknesses as she had his. Bethany too to a degree, though she was always subtler than the two of them. He was sure they’d have a better chance of returning safely if they both went. Marian had found a whole group she trusted like family though. She insisted that they’d be able to take his place so he could stay with mother. He disagreed. Even if Marian trusted them all with her life, he knew they couldn’t possible know the weaknesses that he’d been compensating for his whole life. Even if they did, he didn’t really jump for joy at the idea of staying home with mother and Uncle Gamlen.

It was their last big mission before the expedition, and so the whole crew was along. They’d split into two groups along the Wounded Coast and were to meet further up and Marian had been quick to separate herself from him. He was starting to think Mother had completely convinced her to leave him home and Marian was trying to dodge the conversation.  Carver was not going to let her off so easily.

“We’re not far off the meeting point.” Anders announced, earning a huff each from Fenris and Isabela. Their journey up the Coast had gone easy enough, few bandits slowing them as they made their journey.

Fenris stilled a moment, as if concentrating on something far off before drawing his sword. “Venhedis.” Fenris darted in front, quickly rushing out of sight. Maker, he was quick for a warrior carrying a sword the length of his body.

Carver, Isabela and Anders followed with haste, the crackle of magic and grunts of pain soon filling the air. Isabela reached the group before he and Anders, an ambush clearly in progress. He raced to the middle of the fighting, joining Aveline and Fenris in the front line. Carver grunted as he put the weight of his body behind the swing of his sword, metal ringing in his ear as the bandit before him blocked his attack. Carver swung again as the bandit scrambled to recover, landing a brute blow to the bandits side.  He pulled back his sword with a squelch and gave a quick glance over the battlefield. With eight of them here now they’d make quick work of the bandits. Carver heard the scrunch of rock behind him and thrust the hilt of his sword back into the mans face, as Isabela sunk her daggers into the mans back. Poor luck to the bandits who’d thought it wise to ambush three women and a dwarf.

“Hawke!” The sound of Merrill’s gasp had Carver turning on his feet, to find his sister fighting with the blade of her staff. Her mana clearly depleted, her opponent was fighting through her attempts to block. She was no warrior. Carver lunged into the direction of his sisters foe, raising his sword to strike as Fenris’s lyrium form materialised behind the enemy, the enemies heart quickly crushed in his chest. He quickly re-joined Aveline fighting the last of them, eliminating the final bandits in no time at all.

Following the fighting, Isabela trailed around sinking her daggers into each of the fallen enemies. Just in case. They’d made it out mostly injury free, all but a few cuts and bruises. Varric had gotten the worst of it, taking a bolt through his left thigh.

“Hawke,” Aveline rubbed at her brow. “You ought to remember that you’re a mage. It’s no good you rushing into battle like that, don’t make your death my fault.”

“I agree.” Fenris said as he adjusted his gauntlets. “There’s no need to be reckless.”

“Next time I’ll just stand back and wait to be killed, shall I?”

“If you’re out of mana, back off and replenish.” Aveline scolded. “You’re no use dead.”

“They’re right sister.” Carver frowned as his sister rolled her eyes. “You’re no warrior.”

“Oh, for the love of the Maker, is it pick on Hawke day?” Marian sighed, with an exaggerated role of her eyes. “I’m not buying drinks at the Hanged Man tonight.”

“You never do.” Varric chuckled, wincing slightly as Anders worked his healing magic over him. “Besides, you know they’re right.”

“Not you too.”

“Hawke.” Fenris’s voice was deep and exasperated.

“Fine. Fine.” Marian raised her hands in defence. “Strictly ranged attacks next time.”

Carver exhaled at her words, half shocked that she’d actually listened to them all. Maker, he’d never have believed it if he hadn’t seen it. She really trusted them. And strangely, he found himself trusting them. Not that he’d ever admit it. But if he was left at home he knew they’d keep her safe. They were a family.


	4. To Protect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marian has left for the Deep Roads with Varric, Aveline and Fenris in tow.   
> Carver is left to take care of everything else.

_Carver,_

_Keep Mother safe and Uncle Gamlen too (just don’t make his life too easy.) Make sure Isabela doesn’t get arrested and don’t let the Templars cart off Anders or Merrill. Keep yourself safe too._

_I know you hate me for leaving you behind but I couldn’t do it to Mother. ~~If something happened….~~ ~~With father and Bethany gone she needs….~~ If I don’t come back I know you’ll be there for her. I know you’ll keep our family safe as the head of the family.    _

_I’ll be back before you know it. Hopefully._

_Marian_

 

Marian had slipped the scrawled note into his hand as she farewelled them. She’d been gone for three weeks and Carver had spent the majority of that time running errands for his mother and uncle. It had been a dull few weeks without any impromptu skirmishes or gruelling treks up the coast. He almost missed it.

He knew he was still bitter about being left behind, even if she had good intentions. His whole life he’d been defined be those around him. He’d spent even more time left out while his father taught his sisters. Sometimes he felt like nothing more than a guardian for everyone else. He resented being raised with the promise to protect his sisters. He resented never having a choice. His whole life was the safety of his family. Mostly though he resented that given the choice he likely wouldn’t change. He’d strike down Andraste herself if it meant he could bring back Beth and he’d do the same to keep Marian safe too.

Carver wandered the streets of Kirkwall, playing errand boy while his sister searched for riches in the Deep Roads. She’d come back soon enough and solve their families problems and he’d be back to playing sidekick. Just like always. To being the other Hawke. If only Aveline hadn’t advised the guard to refuse his application. He’d have his own life then. He could be an equal to his sister and not just a shadow always trailing behind her. He could be his own person.

“Carver!” Carver glanced up to see Merrill before him, dripping wet and holding a small ball of yarn.

“Maker Merrill,” Carver nodded to the trail of water behind her. “What happened to you? You’re soaking wet.”

“Oh,” Merrill smiled down at her dripping clothing. “I fell into the harbour.”

“Merrill.” He let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“It’s alright you know.” Merrill smiled as she stepped nearer to him.

“It’s probably not. You should see Anders, Maker knows what’s in that harbour.”

“No… well yes, I should.” Merrill laughed, warm and carefree. “But that’s not what I was saying. Hawke. She didn’t care that you’d be angry because she knew you’d be safe.” Carver shifted and rubbed at the back of his neck in discomfort. For all her innocence and naivety she was incredibly insightful. Blood magic aside.

“I never asked to be kept safe.”

“You shouldn’t hate her for protecting her clan. She’s only doing what she thinks is best.” The smile from Merrill’s face was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow. It was almost stern on her usually soft face.

He knew she was right, Marian was only trying to protect him. To protect their mother. He only hoped he could do the same. Perhaps he could protect her, and Merrill and the others too. Perhaps he could forge his own path too. The Templars. He could be his own man and protect his sister from her greatest threat. Like his namesake, he could show kindness and honour to mages. He could be what the order was meant to be. His father had thought highly of the Templar, his sister too after reading the letter.

“Maybe it’s time I do the same.”


	5. Threats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varric and Fenris visit the Gallows to have words with Carver post Templar recruitment.

As a new Templar recruit Carver had not been able to leave the Gallows in weeks. It served him fine. The last time he’d seen his family his mother had begged and cried for him to stay and his sister had pleaded he change his mind. He knew they wouldn’t understand. They didn’t have too, here he could make a living and protect them from the Templars. He could do what his father had always asked of him.

He’d heard that they were in the process of buying back the Amell Estate, something that was on the lips of many of Kirkwalls citizens. The fallen house of Amell was making a comeback, like a phoenix. Or a Hawke. Aveline had kept him updated too amidst her training as Captain. She had in Aveline fashion congratulated him for making something of himself before threatening to throw him from the tallest thing she could fine if he thought about turning in his sister. After appeasing her concerns she’d clapped a heavier than needed hand on his shoulder and left.

He’d been standing in the Gallows for much of the day, keeping a watchful eye on all the days activities when Fenris and Varric approached him. He’d expected they’d come soon enough, along with Aveline they were her closest friends. And Fenris was something else. If Anders wasn’t to wary to wander into the Gallows alone Carver would bet that he’d visit too.

“Junior.” Varric spoke first, breaking the silence that had fallen between the three of them.

“Dwarf.” Carver nodded, straightening his back in defence. “Elf.”

“So, the templars huh?” Varric shuffled his short legs, shrugging as he glanced around the courtyard.

“Yes.”

“Why?” Fenris asked. Or rather demanded.

“I thought you approved of the Templars?” Carver huffed, how many other threatening visitors would he get on behalf of his sister.

“I do.”

“Look Junior, we just want to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.” Varric interjected, with a flippant wave of his hand. “The Templars are dangerous, and well, your sisters an apostate.”

“I’m aware.” Carver said. He glanced about to make certain nobody was listening. “I’m not going to turn her in.”

“What were you thinking?” Varric shifted, smiling somewhat. “You know Meredith’s bat shit crazy.”

“I needed to be something other than the _other_ Hawke, and I can protect her from here. Merrill and Anders too, for her sake.” Carver lent down, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Do you really believe I’d turn my sister into the Templars?”

“No harm Junior, we’re just making sure.” Varric raised his hands in defence.

“I’m glad my sister has friends she can trust, but I’m no threat to her.”

“If anything changes, if you turn on Hawke, I’ll rip that heart from your chest.” Carver stood strong, trying his hardest not to falter under Fenris’s glare. The elf was terrifying. Not that he’d admit it to anyone. Least of all the present company. Varric would surely run home to tell Marian and immortalise it in one of his books.

“Alright, enough.” Varric stepped forward, moving to stand between them.

“What’s with you and Marian anyway?” Carver spat questioningly. He knew they spent many evenings together, and obviously were deeply interested in one another but Marian had vehemently denied anything between them.

“We’re done here.” Fenris nodded to Varric and began to walk away.

Carver went to call after him but was stopped by Varric shaking his head. “Just let it go, I’ll… ah, see you around.”

Carver stood silent as the pair left the Gallows. They were loyal to her, and he didn’t doubt that they’d kill him in an instant if he harmed or betrayed her. He wasn’t sure whether that calmed or frightened him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all still enjoying this!  
> Thank you for all the kudos and subscribes. It means a great deal to me.  
> (:


	6. Saturnalia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturnalia and Marian and Carver each offer a peace offering.

Carver knocked on the Hawke Estate door, half hoping that nobody would answer. He’d barely spoken to his mother in the months since joining the Templar order and hadn’t seen Marian since her return from the Deep Roads. It was Saturnalia and the sound of celebration rung through the air of Kirkwall. He hoped it would be the same inside. He hoped they could put their tensions to the side and celebrate. Or something. Anything but fighting would do.

“You’re late.” He nodded. He’d aimed to avoid the feast and arrive after the flow of ale and sweet wine.

“Sorry mother, it’s lucky I was able to get here at all.” Carver gave his mother a one-handed hug and stepped into the warmth of the estate. He followed his mother into the heart of the estate, the hum of conversation growing louder with each step.

“Junior.” Varric smirked as Carver stepped into the central room. “Here we all thought you wouldn’t show.” Carver nodded and waved half-heartedly around the room. Marian’s collection of friends, Uncle Gamlen and two dwarven men that Carver hadn’t yet met.

“I’m glad Meredith let you come tonight, I only wish you could have come earlier. You missed the feast.” Carver smiled as his mother fretted, feeling a little guilty about using his duties to get out of the family gathering.

“I’m glad you came.” Marian said with a carefree laugh. “Lest I had to storm the gallows and drag you here myself.” Mother shot Marian a disapproving look, earning a chuckle from Varric.

“Are we giving gifts now?” Merrill called from her place by the fire. “Can I give mine first?”

“Sure thing Kitten.” Isabela smiled as everyone huddled around the fireplace. Merrill with great excitement emptied her satchel of onto the floor. She proudly handed out carved wooden statues to each of them, a dragon for Marian, a flower for their mother, a ship for Isabela and a bear for him.

The group continued to exchange gifts, Varric gave everyone a copy of his most recent book, Isabela handed out jewels and gems she’d likely stolen, Fenris handed out wine, wine that Carver was sure wasn’t to his taste and his sister had handed out small gifts to each of them. Marian and Fenris shared a look as he glanced over the mountain of books she’d given him and Carver found himself standing outside of something personal.

“And for my darling brother,” Marian stood dramatically making her way upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”

Carver stood awkwardly while his sister collected whatever gift she’d found for him from her bedroom. The rest of the room was laughing and chatting while they drank their ale and sweet wine, enjoying each other’s gifts and company. Marian returned with a smile and a box in her hands.

He opened the box, removing the worn book and small statuette. “A Templars History and an antique Templar statue from Orlais. A peace offering.”

“Thank you.” Carver smiled at the gifts. He’d never expected his sister to show such acceptance to his joining of the order. Snarky remarks and stubbornness were her defining traits. He pulled his sister into a crushing hug and slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve the gift he’d brought her. The gift he’d considered not giving.

“I liberated this from Meredith.” Carver handed her the small, battered grimoire he’d initially stolen to prove that he’d never turn his sister in.

“You stole from Meredith?” Marian exclaimed. “I’m not sure I’d even do that.”

“Ballsy.” Varric said with a whistle, turning his attention to Marian.

Aveline shook her head. “Another thing I’ll pretend I don’t know.”

“Thank you,” Marian smiled. “This… Carver, this means so much.”

The group settled around the fire once more, and Carver truly felt content for the evening. Mother didn’t hate him and Marian didn’t hate him. Even Anders and Fenris were being kind to him tonight. The Hawke’s were not broken.

 

 


	7. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hawke’s were broken and he wasn’t sure they could be fixed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much trouble with this chapter, and am still conflicted with it.   
> Apologies if it hasn't come across effectively but I sincerely hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> ^Thank you for reading!

Marian had promised that she’d keep mother safe. She’d promised him that they wouldn’t lose anyone else. Carver was foolish to believe her. Mother was gone and the Hawke’s were broken.

It had been a hasty journey through the streets, an uncomfortable eeriness hovering over the sleeping city. Gamlen had come to fetch him in the early hours of the morning. Now, Carver stood outside the door of the Estate mentally preparing himself for what he’d soon face.

Mother _. Dead_. It didn’t feel real.

It couldn’t be real.

The Estate door opened before Carver could bring himself to let himself in. The chantry brother that he’d seen following his sister on the odd occasion giving a slight nod as he passed. Carver gave silent thanks that the man wasn’t as loudly pious as usual. The last thing he wanted to hear was the empty words of a Maker who had let his mother die.

The house was silent all but the crackling of the fire and the clanging sound of a tea tray shaking in Orana’s hands. Marian wasn’t facing him, her attention focused on the fire in front of her. Fenris was sitting nearby and Carver couldn’t help but question the presence of the elf that had broken her heart. Aveline was there too, her arm draped around Marian awkwardly. It was Varric who acknowledged him though, emerging from the library with a handful of papers.

“Junior.” The dwarf nodded.

“Where is she?” Aveline and Fenris both turned to acknowledge him as he spoke. Marian remained unmoving.

“Upstairs in her bedroom.” Varric glanced up the flight of stairs momentarily before his eyes fell to the floor. “Anders is up there.”

“Anders is a healer.” Carver scowled.

Varric shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s… ah… shit. Leandra… Carver, it was bad.”

“How bad?” What had mother gone through?

“Blood magic.” Marian’s raspy voice echoed. “She looked like someone. He killed her because she looked like someone.”

“Blood magic.” Carver spit the words. “It’s always bloody blood magic.”

Marian flinched but remained unmoved. “We weren’t fast enough.”

“You promised.” The words shook his body, rolling rage into the air around him. “You promised you’d keep mother safe!”

“I’m sorry.” Marian collapsed into a fit of sobs, burying her face into Aveline’s shoulder. Fenris rose from his seat, eyeing him threateningly. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. Their family was gone. _Gone_.

“Father, Bethany, Mother, all gone. They were better people than most and you promised to protect them. You promised to get us to safety and lost Beth, you promised to keep mother safe and lost her to a blood mage. And all that remains is us, and Uncle Gamlen. Maker how is that fair?” Carver was shaking in anger, waves of energy drowning all sense. “Gamlen’s a crook, and we’re killers. Why not one of us? Why not you?”

Carver regretted the words the moment they slipped his tongue but couldn’t find the sense to stop. He had no control anymore. “It should have been you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Marian whipped around to face him, her face red and puffy, blood matted in her hair. “I’d have handed myself to blood mage if I knew it would keep mother safe. I’d have thrown myself in front of that ogre if it would keep Bethany safe too.”

“This isn’t Hawke’s fault.” Aveline spoke gently. “Let’s all get some sleep and talk it over in the morning.”

“Talking won’t bring mother back.” Nothing would bring mother back. She was gone.

“Where were you?” Marian narrowed her eyes on him. “You left us.”

“I left to protect you Marian. I was foolish enough to believe you’d keep mother safe.” Carver angrily pointed at her. “Trouble follows you.”

Marian stood, stepping around Aveline and Fenris to stand across from him. He glowered down at her, hating her in a way he never thought possible. “I’m sorry Carver.”

She turned on her heels and headed upstairs without another word leaving Carver empty and full of rage all at once. The Hawke’s were broken and he wasn’t sure they could be fixed.


	8. The Champion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirkwall faces the Qunari threat.

The city had fallen into silence by the time Carver reached the Viscounts Keep. The screams that had echoed through Kirkwall had died down and the Qunari forces were centralising around the Keep. He knew most of the Hightown nobles were inside, Knight Commander Meredith too. He’d heard whispers that a group of mercenaries were with her, a woman, two elves and a dwarf. Carver swallowed the lump in his throat, it might not be Marian. Though this was exactly the type of trouble Marian would find herself centre to.

Carver stepped out of the shadows, noticing Aveline and a few guardsmen trying unsuccessfully to get answers from the Qunari guard. The city was falling apart. First the blight and now the Qunari. The Maker had a sick sense of humour. Carver made his way over to Aveline, his heavy armour clanking with each step.

“Carver.” She nodded, moving her guards away from Qunari. “Where’s the Knight Commander?”

“Last I heard she was heading for the Keep.” Carver nodded towards the door, the faint sounds of a crowd gasping inside. “And Marian?”

“I think she’s inside the Keep, not that I’m getting any answers.” Aveline scowled.

“Hmm.” Carver eyed the giant guarding the door. With Aveline and the guards it would be easy enough to take him out, provided there weren’t a whole army waiting on the other side of the door.

A chorus of voices boomed from inside the Viscounts Keep, and Carver couldn’t be sure if they were screams, cheers or gasps. He glanced at Aveline as they and the guardsmen unsheathed their weapons. The doors flew open, and Qunari poured out, without a glance their way.

“Maker, what’s going on?” Carver bounded up the remaining steps of the Viscount’s Keep and was briskly pushed to the side by Varric. Varric was pushing through the crowd, shouting things Carver couldn’t quite make out. He glanced around in confusion, unable to see a thing past the crowds that had spilled out of the Keep.

“Venhedis! Move!” Carver pushed through the crowd at the sound of Marian’s elf. “Get Anders.”

Aveline was shouting orders at the mass of people spilling out of the Keep, but Carver found himself unable to hear what she was saying. Marian had to be here somewhere. Carver swallowed as his eyes found his sister, limp in the arms of Fenris. Her skin was pale, starkly contrasted against the blood stained robes clinging to her skin.

“Marian?” Carver’s voice broke as he called to his sister, the only family he had left. Fenris continued to push through the crowd, the city guard making room for him to pass. Merrill followed closely, gripping Marian’s staff with shaking hands. Varric had disappeared, and Carver found himself hoping for the first time in his life that it was to drag Ander’s back with him. He pushed forward to follow them, when he felt a strong hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Carver Hawke.” He stopped trying to struggle free at the sound of the Knight Commanders voice. “A word.”

* * *

Eleven days. Carver had spent eleven days in solitude following the Qunari incident. The Knight Commander had visited him several times to ask about his loyalties, and Marian. They’d kept him in the dark about Marian’s fate while he was under investigation.

It wasn’t until the Knight Captain told him he was allowed a personal day and a return to normal duties the following day that he got any answers.

Carver had crossed the city as quickly as possible, pushing through the Estate door with more force then necessary.

“Nice to see you’re still alive.” Varric glanced up from his book.

“Marian?” Carver asked, though he was already making his way to the stairs. Marian had to be up there, Varric’s easy going demeanour told him that. The closer Carver got to Marian’s door the clearer he could hear bickering voices.

“See that your hands don’t wander abomination.” Carver hovered outside the door, gauging the dangers of letting himself in and getting in the middle of an argument between Fenris and Anders.

“You don’t need to be in here.” Anders paused, a small sound of annoyance escaping his lips. “You don’t deserve to be here at all.”

“Anders.” Marian warned. Carver took his sisters intervention as a chance to let himself in the room. The door creaked as he opened it, Fenris and Anders complaints dying down in their throats.

“Marian.” Carver greeted his sister, pleased to see colour tinting her skin once more. She smiled at him, from her place in bed and shooed the elf and abomination from her room. Both men tried to protest though their voices quickly died in their throats with a stern look from Marian.

“Champion.” She pushed herself to sit and motioned for Carver to take the seat beside the bed.

“What?”

“Don’t you read the papers dear brother?” Marian chuckled. “You’re speaking to the Champion of Kirkwall.”

Carver raised an eyebrow at his sister’s antics. “I’ve only just been given the all clear. Meredith had me in solitary confinement for not turning you in.”

“She what?” Marian wiggled, sitting herself up straighter. “She assured Aveline that you were safe in the barracks.”

“I was safe in the barracks, in a locked room.” Carver shrugged, not wanting to go into the details of it. He was out now, and Marian was safe. The city seemed to be back to normal. He hadn’t lost anyone else. “So, Champion, what crazy stunt did you pull to earn that title?”

“Defeated the Arishok in a duel.” Marian smiled, tugging up her shirt to show the mass of bandaging bundled around her abdomen. Carver opened his mouth in shock, trying to find words, something. Trust Marian to pull a stunt like this.

“Maker Marian.” Carver inhaled, running his hand through his hair in shock. He was sure the Maker had it out for the Hawkes, and Marian seemed to do her best to tempt fate.

“Carver.” Marian twisted her legs to hang over the bed, facing him. “I’m alive.”

He took hold of his sisters outstretched hand, grateful that he could hold it in his own. She was alive. He wouldn’t take that for granted again.


	9. Family Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver, Varric, Fenris and Marian have dinner at Aveline and Donnics.

Carver steps into the small home behind Donnic, greeting the man awkwardly. It was Aveline’s birthday next week or something, Carver couldn’t quite remember the conversation but Marian had exclaimed that dinner was necessary. He’s only hope was that the whole group wasn’t waiting inside. Marian he expected of course, he likely wouldn’t be invited to share an intimate dinner with Aveline and her husband without her, and Aveline and Donnic were sensible enough that he could enjoy a night with them. Provided Aveline doesn’t nag him too much. Though if he’s being perfectly honest he finds it almost comforting, she speaks to him the way he imagined a normal older sister would speak to their brother, with concern and a little push. Marian was far more likely to drag him into trouble than anything. He’s not quite sure if he prefers it that way or not.

He was pleased of course, to have the time to see his sister and the band of misfits she called her surrogate family. Now that it was only himself, Marian and their hopeless uncle he’d missed feeling like family. Family dinners were something he never thought he’d miss, they were almost always disasters. Their father would spend much of dinner educating his sisters on the safety of magic, making horrible jokes along the way. Mother would nudge him when the jokes didn’t stop, and tell him of the trouble they’d got into with the towns children, he’d start lecturing them about fighting, pointed looks at Marian and himself the entire time. Beth, at least seemed to enjoy the dinners, smiling along as her less responsible siblings got a talking to. As they grew older and their family grew smaller the dinners became less tolerable but Carver would trade everything he has for the chance to sit around a tense table with his family. Annoying jokes and uncomfortable conversations aside, Hawke dinners were special to him.

Aveline nods as he enters the cramped dining room, Carver nods back thankful to see much of the usual group missing. “The others?”

“Just us tonight.” Aveline smiles, pouring a glass of wine in front of the empty seat he presumes is his. “They all had plans.”

Carver raises an eyebrow, it’s odd to see so few of them outside of a job. Varric chuckles beside him. “Isabela said something about educating Daisy, and we may or may not have forgotten to invite Choir boy.”

“And the mage?” Carver asks, hoping Anders isn’t going to make a surprise appearance.

“Ander’s is not… well.”

“She means the abomination has become more of an abomination.” Fenris says with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve told you to stop saying that.” Marian huffs. It’s her reaction to Fenris’s comment that makes it clear she’s actually concerned for the mage. Aveline’s quick exit into the kitchen is another hint. Perhaps he should look into it. No. Marian would never forgive him if the Templars took him.

“Sorry.” The elf’s voice is so low, Carver almost misses it. He’s not sure his ever heard Fenris apologise, much less for insulting Anders.

“I didn’t know you had manners.” Carver lets out before he can help himself. He’s still not over Fenris leaving Marian, and the way they continue to play friends. He doesn’t understand why the elf wears that ribbon around his wrist, and the Hawke emblem on his armour. It’s as though he wants to tease her with the possibility of a future. If his sister had any sense she would have dropped the elf from her life the moment he left. Or maybe, not invite him into her bed into the first place.

“So, dear brother.” Marian intervenes, her voice anything but sweet. “Did you hear we finally killed Danarius?”

“Who?”

“My former master.”

“Good for you.” Carver downs his glass of wine, not the least bit interested in the death of a magister. Varric, beside him shakes his head and mumbles something too low for Carver to hear. He does however, see the way Marian is holding her own glass with a death grip. It was lucky that brute strength was not in his sister’s skill set or else they’d be showered in glass.

“Would it kill you to try and be likeable for just one night?” Marian shoots him a look across the table, showing a frightening likeness to their mother. It was the look he received when he’d refused to play nice with Marian, or on the very rare occasion Bethany.

“Yes.”

“I don’t particularly want to return you to Meredith as a bag of ashes Junior,” Varric chuckled, in part a warning to behave. It was usual, the dwarf never knowing whether to laugh along or intervene. At least they got along better than Varric and Bartrand had. Carver poured himself another drink, doing his best to ignore his sister’s huffs and Varric’s amusement.

“Shit Hawke, I think I’m the only male in your life that doesn’t know how to brood.” Varric winked at Marian across the table, as she snorted in response.

It’s something he’d heard again and again from Marian’s group of friends. As had Fenris. Anders too at times. Carver momentarily considered remarking that perhaps it was Marian’s doing but reconsidered at the thought of a fireball to the face.

Aveline and Donnic returned to the room, holding a tray of baked vegetables and a roast respectively. “I don’t brood.”

Aveline scoffed as she settled the tray of food onto the table, shooting her husband an amused glance.

“Except when you lose at cards.” Fenris’s voice was low, and even, the slight smirk the only indication that he was amused.

“You’ve been gambling again?” Aveline sighed, as she took her place at the end of the table.

“Only a little.” Donnic smiled at his wife. Aveline smiled back as she began serving the meal, and Carver was struck by just how lucky Aveline had been to find him after everything she’d been through. Romance and companionship wasn’t something he’d associated with her, even seeing her last moments with Wesley. Perhaps that kind of happiness was possible for him too. Maybe, possibly with Merrill. Though he’d swear to the Maker he wasn’t interested.

Marian laughed brightly, nudging Fenris playfully. “You didn’t fair any better last time! Climbed into bed muttering something about _that dwarf_.” Marian and Varric shared a look and both broke out wide pleased grins. Fenris muttered something under his breath, much to Marian’s amusement.

It took Carver a moment to register his sisters words, that she’d let the elf who’d left her heartbroken back into her bed. Maker, what would their parents have thought. Sure, his mother liked Fenris well enough, but surely, she wouldn’t back his sisters poor choices. Had she really welcomed him back?

“Care to join us next time Junior?” Varric nudged him, in between mouthfuls of food. “It’s normally the three of us, but sometimes Choir Boy and Isabela make an appearance.”

“He’ll swindle your coin before you finish your drink.” Marian laughed, earning a smug smirk from Varric.  

“Well, what can I say.” Varric shrugged his shoulders smiling at the mock glares Donnic and Fenris were shooting his way.

“Hn.” The elf shook the wine bottle, as if hoping for more to appear. “I’ll get another.”

“I’ll help.” Marian smiled, standing from her seat and following Fenris from the room. They were involved again, there was no denying it. More so then before by the looks of things.

Carver tipped his drink back, desperately trying to cover the annoyed scoff that had escaped his lips. If the elf left again, Marian would be a mess. He’d do more damage than the arishok ever could.

“Don’t.” Carver glanced up to see Aveline eyeing him.

“Don’t what?”

“Start anything.” She sighed, dropping her knife and fork to the table with a clang. “We were worried too, at first, but… They’re happy. Happier than I’ve seen either of them in years, perhaps at all. Don’t ruin it.”

“Last time-” Carver began, but stopped as Aveline fixed her stern gaze upon him.

“Don’t.”

“Things are different now.” Varric elaborated. “It’s been years. They’ve had their eyes on each other from the beginning. Danarius is dead. He’s free and things have finally worked out for them. She deserves this, and you know it.”

Carver fell into silence as the pair returned to the room, Fenris’s arm loosely draped around her waist. It was such a normal thing, something that should look strange and jarring on the elf who despised any form of persona contact excluding shoving his arm through the chest of smugglers, but it looked natural. They were wrapped up in their own little world, oblivious to the tense situation they had returned to.

Had things changed that much?

The others were sure, but…

She may be the Champion of Kirkwall but she was also his sister. He couldn’t help but worry.

 

 


	10. Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meredith is defeated, but Hawke and the merry band of misfits aren't clear of danger yet.

Once more Kirkwall had gone alight, the streets bleeding as the cities residents screamed and cowered. That bloody mage had blown the chantry. Between him and the Grand Enchanter, the mages hadn’t done anything for their cause. Not that the Knight Commander was any better. Carver had joined the Templars for many reasons, carving his own path, protecting his family, safe guarding innocents from the dangers of magic. He’d never joined the Templars wanting to kill mages. No matter how much they rambled about their damn plight, mages were people.

 

He hadn’t hesitated to turn on Meredith.

 

Carver remained with the Templars, following the Knight Captains lead in rebuilding the trust and foundations within the city. Marian had been in hiding since the battle, shut in the Estate with her merry band of misfits.

 

The city was silent, fear having taken hold of the people. Tensions were high. It was safer for Marian in the Estate. A quiet anger was bubbling. Her reputation tarnished by the actions of Anders. Logically he knew she was relatively safe, the people of the city no match for her tenacity. Even if they were, he doubted they’d get close enough without crossbow bolts, swords and magical fists stopping them in their tracks. But she was his sister. His last living relative. Besides Uncle Gamlen, but he wasn’t sure the grouch of a man counted the same.

 

He stepped through the dark streets, eyes flicking about defensively. Knight Captain Cullen had granted him a favour, a warning. He respected the Champion. Carver darted through the familiar streets of Hightown, jogging as he approached the Hawke Estate. He rasped on the door, before pushing it open.

 

“You really should lock your doors sister.” Carver chided his sister. She was stretched out along the chaise by the fire, her head in the elfs lap, both with books in hand. Varric, Isabela and Donnic sat together playing a game of cards, Merrill watching eagerly. Aveline, he suspected, was on guard duty.

 

“Yes, I suppose I should.” She turned her head, giving him a pointed stare over the pages of her book.

 

“Fancy a game?” Varric wiggled the cards in his hand.

 

“You have to leave.” The room all but ignored him, Marian sighing deeply.

 

“That’s not very nice Carver!” Merrill scolded.

 

“No. Ugh.” He shuffled on his feet for a moment, the heat of blush creeping up his cheeks. “I mean- The Templars are coming.”

 

“I thought the templars just walked through my door.” Marian scoffed, teasing.

 

“Marian.” Carver approached her. “The templars are coming for you. They’re flooding in from all corners of Thedas. They want to speak to all of you. But Marian, you mostly.”

 

“How long?” Fenris snapped, setting his book down.

 

“Maker I don’t know.” Carver stammered in frustration. They were all watching him now, faces stern and sombre. “The Knight Captain said you weren’t safe here anymore. The Templars believe you instigated it all.”

 

“Sounds like a trap.” Isabela said with a stretch, laying her cards down before her. “I win boys.”

 

“What sounds like a trap?” Aveline’s voice followed the sound of the door slamming. Armour clanged as she trudged into the room.

 

“Fleeing the city.” Donnic shrugged, standing to greet his wife affectionately.

 

“That’s no trap. I received notice today.” Aveline rubbed her temple. “Tomorrow afternoon the first of the Templars will be here.”

 

“Tomorrow?” Varric raised an eyebrow, eyes crinkling in concern.

 

“We’ll need to leave before dawn.” Fenris stood, his calm facade wavering for a moment. He checked over his gauntlets as if preparing for battle.

 

“Can I really just run from this?” Marian paced. “I’m the Champion of Kirkwall.”

 

“You better bloody run!” Carver placed his hand on his sisters shoulder, stopping her pacing in her tracks. “I won’t have Gamlen being my only living relative.”

 

“But-”

 

“Survive.” Aveline said, as the group began to buzz around them. “It won’t always be like this.”

 

“I can’t just-”

 

“Marian.” Carver stepped back as the elf approached her, choosing to block out whatever things he was whispering to her.

 

-

 

Two hours before dawn and they were huddled on the dock, Isabela and Varric having bought passage or the ship itself. Carver wasn’t very clear on just what the two rogues had accomplished. They’d found a way out, that was good enough for him. 

 

“Carver.” Carver tilted his head at the call of his name, finding the elf beside him.

 

“Fenris.” Carver nodded. He glanced back towards the ship, where Merrill and Marian were loading baskets of food.

 

“You could still join us.”

 

“My place is here.” Carver shifted awkwardly. “But thank you.”

 

The elf nodded, his eyes wandering back towards Marian. Carver averted his eyes uncomfortably, Fenris’s affectionate gaze far too soft for a man who could rip out the hearts of his enemies. Literally.

 

“I mean, thank you for it all.” Carver rubbed at the back of his neck, trying his best to not sound like a complete tit. “Thank you for looking out for her.”

 

Fenris shifted beside him, looking at the bottom of his feet. “She looks out for me, just as well.”

 

“Still.”

 

“You hardly need to thank me.” Fenris said, voice low as he picked at something on his foot. “I enjoy following her.”

 

“Maker, you’re making this hard.” He turned, rolling his eyes in exasperation at the elf. “Just. Just, don’t hurt her. Or anything.”

 

“She’s more capable than you think.” They watched as the rest of the group prepped the ship for their journey, awkward silence falling over them.

 

“Still.” Carver smirked, genuinely as he tapped his sword. Fenris snorted in response, tapping at his own mammoth sword. The pair made eye contact, neither daring to smile.

 

“Time to get this beautiful lady out to sea!” Isabela bellowed, looking happier than he’d ever seen her.

 

Carver stood patiently watching as Aveline and Donnic said their goodbyes to the group. Even Uncle Gamlen had crawled out of his hovel to farewell Marian. Carver said his own goodbyes to Isabela, Merrill, Varric and Fenris, saving his sister for last. He’d spent most of his life close to his family. The prospect of a future where he wouldn’t see his only likeable living relative for an indefinite amount of time was daunting. Even if he wouldn’t admit it.

 

“Promise you’ll write.” Marian stared out over the docks. “And stay out of trouble. Aveline promised to keep an eye on you but, I know what you’re like.”

 

“A family curse.” Carver laughed, watching the shadows from the corner of his eye. As long as they were in Kirkwall, she wasn’t safe. None of them were.

 

“Well, I guess its time to go.” Marian nodded towards the boat, the rest of their group waiting patiently. Except for Isabela. Patience was not one of her virtues, if she even had any.

 

“It seems so.” Carver gave a half smile, making no move to say goodbye.

 

Marian scoffed, wrapping her arms around him in a generous hug. Carver shifted, wrapping an arm around his little big sister. “Goodbye Marian.”

 

“I’m worried Carver.” Marian shifted, tilting her head to face him. “One of these days I’m going to walk into a mess I can’t escape from.”

 

“You’ve yet to find a problem a fireball won’t fix.” Carver snorted, untangling Marian from his arm. “And if you do, I’ll be there, they’ll be there.” Carver pointed at their friends, his eyes settling on Fenris. “And he’ll be there.”

 

“That was almost nice of you.”

 

Carver patted his sisters shoulder. “Enough stalling, you need to go.”

 

Marian straightened, adjusting the staff on her back as she blinked back what suspiciously looked like tears. She turned to face him, smiling broadly, as her eyes grew red and watered. “Until next time, brother.”

 

Carver watched in silence as Marian boarded the boat, and found herself in Fenris’s arms. Aveline, Donnic and Gamlen stood near him as they watched the ship retreat into the darkness. He didn’t particularly like Fenris, and he’d never understand why Marian cared for him so, but he couldn’t deny the comfort he saw in her eyes whenever the elf was near. With him she was Marian, carefree and true. He was good for her.

 

With Fenris by her side, she could unload the weight of responsibilities.

 

Carver gave one last look out to sea, nodding as the ship disappeared into the darkness of early morning. They’d meet again.

 

“You’ll be alright, sister.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who has stuck around till the end!  
> Every comment, kudos, subscription and bookmark has meant so much to me.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed it.
> 
> -ElfrootandEezo


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